


I Don't Know No Love Songs

by Cerberusia



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-09 00:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7779670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberusia/pseuds/Cerberusia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of the really nice things about having Gamzee as a moirail was how uncomplicated he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Know No Love Songs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [locutusthecat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/locutusthecat/gifts).



> As you can probably tell, this is set vaguely post-game on a new Earth where trolls and humans live together. But really, it's just a bit of established-relationship fluff.

One of the really nice things about having Gamzee as a moirail was how uncomplicated he was. If he was happy, he smiled; if he was sad, he looked mournful. Karkat had told him that once. Gamzee had smiled his big, lazy smile and said, “Bro, you only think that because you look so angry all the time.” He’d rolled over and caught Karkat’s hand and added, “But I always know when you don't mean it.”

Karkat had gone hot in the face and grumbled that he did _so_ mean it, but Gamzee had just laughed and wrapped him up in a hug. Gamzee was understanding like that.

Which was why, when Karkat got back from class at four in the afternoon and found Gamzee in his room, flopped into a pile of horns face-down, he knew something was wrong.

He knocked sharply on the door.

One shoulder raised, then lowered. A faint, mournful _honk_ emanated from the pile. Definitely not good. Karkat went to put his bag of groceries on the kitchen table, then came back to study Gamzee's prone form and its surroundings.

The room wasn't any messier than usual: there were no ominous messages on the walls written in multi-coloured paint; there were no Faygo bottles on the floor to indicate that Kurloz had visited. So whatever it was, it probably wasn't _that_ bad.

Karkat had never got the hang of smoothly easing into piling: public emergency shoosh-and-pap in moments of high tension and potential death was fine, if a little embarrassing afterwards, but the little every-day stuff - the mechanics of wandering over to his moirail and inserting himself into his personal space to demonstrate his deeply-felt pale affection - was always more nerve-wracking than he suspected it was supposed to be.

He chewed his lip briefly, then screwed up his courage and went over to the pile anyway. Fuck it, Gamzee already knew he was clumsy at showing affection and still thought he was a great catch, no matter how many times Karkat had tried to disabuse him of this notion.

"Gamzee?" he asked quietly, lowering himself to the pile and trying not to set off any of the horns. If they'd done this in his room they could have had comfortable (and quiet) beanbags but no, horns it was. The things he put up with in this relationship. At least Gamzee had ditched the greasepaint.

"Mmmph." A pause, then Gamzee took a deep breath and sighed heavily. Oh, it was that sort of sad. Manageable sad.

Gently, Karkat rested his hand on Gamzee's back. He was still skinny: Karkat could feel every knob of his spine. It worried him, sometimes, that Gamzee had been so long off sopor and ate so much but still wasn't putting on much weight; but he seemed healthy, so Karkat just learnt to cook and made sure there was always something in the fridge.

"Rough day?" Karkat kept his tone as mild as possible. Indoor voice, he reminded himself.

"Fifi's sick," Gamzee mumbled, disturbing the pile as he moved his head restlessly. He sounded so dismal that for a moment, Karkat's pusher stopped - and then he remembered who 'Fifi' was.

"What? How come?"

"Fuckin' cystitis. That means she keeps having to pee and sometimes there's blood in it," Gamzee added helpfully. "It's not motherfuckin' dangerous or anything, but she's shit-miserable all the time." Finally Gamzee rolled over. There were no tear tracks on his face, but around his eyes was a little purple. "She's probably gonna be fine, got her on some motherfuckin' antibiotics, but..." He shrugged. "Amma's looking after her, the sister on the night shift. Says as she'll text me."

Karkat made what he hoped was a soothing noise and put his hand on Gamzee's sternum. His pusherbeat was steady under his skin.

"She's such a motherfuckin' sweet little goat, you know?" Gamzee put one massive hand on Karkat's thigh. Karkat took the hint and lay down next to him on the pile.

"She's the, uh, chestnut one, right? Kind of shaggy?"

"Yeah, that's Fifi. Real motherfuckin' sweet nature, too."

Having met the goats once, Karkat had his doubts about this so-called 'sweet nature', but kept them to himself. Maybe she really was gentle-tempered - for a goat. He made an agreeable noise.

"Just don't fuckin' like up and seeing her like that, in pain and shit." Out of the corner of his eye, Karkat saw Gamzee's bare feet wiggle. Now _that_ was flirtatious - especially with the filed-down claws that Karkat had insisted on. He made a soothing noise.

"But if a motherfucker wanted to up and pile to get this shit quiet in me..." Gamzee trailed off hopefully. Karkat squeezed his hand over Gamzee's ribs, agreeing. A sweet, lazy smile spread across Gamzee's face. "That's right," he crooned, and put his big hand over Karkat's.

It was so easy for Gamzee: he didn't fuck about over-thinking it, he just did what his heart told him to and hugged and papped Karkat quite casually on a daily basis. He didn't agonise, he just _did_.

Karkat swallowed and with his other hand reached up and touched Gamzee's face, just lightly with the tips of his fronds. Gamzee ran cooler than he did, but his skin was still warm. He watched Gamzee close his eyes, long dark lashes fluttering over his cheeks. One of the most charming discoveries Karkat had made when Gamzee had stopped wearing the facepaint - aside from the joys of not washing it off his clothing - was that underneath, Gamzee had little darker marks speckled over his nose and cheeks, like Karkat himself had. The humans thought it was cute, and now that Karkat could see Gamzee's, he agreed.

Gamzee was gently stroking his palm with his thumb. It was so tender that Karkat felt his eyes sting a little - but he wasn't going to make Gamzee anxious and ruin this perfectly nice piling session by crying like some sort of emotionally incontinent wriggler. He just squeezed Gamzee's hand in return and with his other hand slowly stroked Gamzee's face, and watched how still and relaxed Gamzee was even when Karkat's claws were dangerously near his eye sockets.

Their faces were close together. Karkat craned his neck forward uncomfortably to press his snub nose to Gamzee's pointy one, and felt Gamzee's face under his hand stretch into a smile.

Gamzee's other hand came over him to press against the small of his back, big and comforting. It pressed, and Karkat wriggled closer so their knees bumped to a cacophony of horns and his neck was no longer strained.

"Karbro," Gamzee mumbled under his breath, and Karkat watched him relax further into the pile as he traced patterns on Gamzee's cheek with his claws. He wanted to say something sweet in return, but all his successful sweet-talking so far had been entirely accidental, so he just concentrated very hard on how very pale he was for this huge, lanky, rot-panned troll who had once taken up the mantle of Subjugglation and now barely spoke above a whisper and got hopelessly sad over a goat getting sick.

You're my favourite, he thought at Gamzee. You're my fucking favourite, and I'll never let anything hurt you, even though in practice it's always you thumping the shit out of people before I get the chance. No shit-licker will say anything bad about you or even _think_ it when I'm around.

Gamzee's arm around his waist squeezed, as if he'd heard Karkat's mental ruminations. Karkat laid his palm flat on Gamzee's cheek and leant in to press their noses together again. He closed his eyes and felt his moirail's breath against his mouth - and smiled, just a little, so Gamzee could see.


End file.
